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Read more poems by William Butler Yeats: William Butler Yeats Poems at Poetry X.

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The Valley Of The Black Pig

William Butler Yeats

The dews drop slowly and dreams gather:  unknown spears
Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes,
And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries
Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears.
We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,
The grey caim on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,
Being weary of the world's empires, bow down to you.
Master of the still stars and of the flaming door.

Added: 4 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 18 Mar 2018 7:23 PM | Viewed: 5135 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1267/ | Viewed on 18 March 2018.
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